United We Stand - REWRITE
by Scriptor Bellum
Summary: REWRITE. When two seemingly average humans are suddenly thrust into a world of robotic extraterrestrials, it's expected that they may not handle it well. Expectations aren't everything, though. While they certainly aren't going to be saving the world... perhaps they can save something else. post DoTM, canon divergent. eventual Optimus x OC, eventual Megatron x OC. rating may go up.
1. Prologue

**Hello, everyone! My username as well as the title of the story is probably a little strange, seeing as I've changed my username as of January 2016. (It's part of my, uh... New Year, New Me resolution, heh.)**

 **My username used to be A'isha Ishtar, but I've changed it to Scriptor Bellum as I feel that it reflects me and my writing more. So the original United We Stand was also mine, but this is a rewrite of it! Since I've been roleplaying and writing more, my overall writing has, I think, vastly improved. This was one of my favorite stories, as well as one of my most popular, and I really wanted to continue it, but I also felt that I could do better. So I've decided to rewrite it! The plot will be tweaked, and some character details and traits will be changed. The story also will be rewritten in third person, since I've become much more comfortable with that as opposed to the first-person narrative I used in the original.**

 **My update schedule will be pretty infrequent, as I draw and roleplay, and will fall into lulls of not wanting to write at all. That said, I hope you'll stick with me and enjoy this rewrite!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or any of its characters. I am not making money off this story, I'm simply doing it for enjoyment and to improve my writing. I own Aspen Singletary, Stacie Woods, and other OCs who will make appearances in this story.**

 **Without further ado, please enjoy the prologue! More action will begin next chapter. Leave a review if you're so inclined, as it motivates me a lot to see feedback! Till next time!**

* * *

Getting herself into situations that she probably shouldn't be in was one of Aspen Singletary's many specialties. Her impressive track record included being on the prom committee in high school, being team leader of her majors course in college, and arguing with customers enough to get herself fired from no less than two car repair garages. When it seemed that she'd finally found her niche working as a mechanic for the United States military, the solemn promise she'd made to herself was simple. _Stay in your lane. Don't be ambitious or hotheaded or goofy. Just do your job, and take it seriously. Do your job, but don't stand out. Don't blow it this time._

At twenty-nine years old, one would think she'd learned at least this life lesson. Even though she'd gotten better at curbing her ambitions and not letting it be the source of failure, it wasn't a risk she wanted to take. This job made her happy, and it gave her a sense of security. As long as she did the tasks she was assigned, there would always be a place for her. There would always be a need for people who could fix the army's equipment.

Of course, when duty called in a certain way, how could she refuse?

It came as a surprise to her when she was called into the office of her superior, with two other men and a woman entering and then the door locked behind her. Her first instinct was to internally panic, wondering if she'd screwed up something important. Who were these guys? Why were the doors locked?

But as it turned out, they had singled her out as having done solid, reliable work. Apparently, a few of the soldiers who worked in a highly secretive military group called N.E.S.T. had noticed her dedication to her job, as well as some of the higher-ups who were at the head of the organization. One of the men, who was introduced to her as Galloway, made a point of telling her that she was exactly what they needed: a mediocre everyman who could be trusted not to run her mouth about things.

And that was true, she supposed; her friends at work weren't really friends. Acquaintances, coworkers, what-have-you, she didn't really interact with them beyond what she needed to. And the only thing her family and outside friends knew was that she worked as a mechanic for the military. Where other people might gossip, or talk about specifics of work outside of the workplace, she didn't. (The reaction she suppressed was an indignant, "Are you listening to my phone calls?" But if they were, it was probably for a good reason. Talking back to people higher on the food chain than she was rarely worked out well for her.)

When they spoke to her about what they wanted of her, it rendered her silent for a few minutes. The beings that everyone knew existed by now, the _Transformers_ \- as the woman, Mearing, referred to them - had recently been through an Earth-threatening end to their war. Aspen could recall their images plastered all over news broadcasts and internet headlines, and she was no stranger to the terror that had gripped the city mere weeks ago. Their entire planet had almost become home to a bunch of human-hating Decepticons who would enslave the natives, and it was only owing to the Autobots' valiant efforts that they were defeated.

Her purpose, should she choose to accept the assignment, would be to lead repairs on the Autobots. When faced with this, her first response was nothing but quietness, then a question of whether or not there were already mechanics who did that job. The other man, a General Morshower, informed her that they did, but they'd never had to tackle a project of this magnitude before. The Autobots' medic, a bot named Ratchet, could only do so much. Though the human mechanics took direction from him well, everyone was having trouble managing their resources. Due to not being much of a leader yet being a perfectionist, it wasn't easy for Ratchet to delegate tasks. There was also the matter of their leader, a bot by the designation Optimus Prime, had gotten one of his arms completely torn off. That was the main repair they were trying to get done, and Ratchet lamented several times that he didn't have the tools to fix it.

The biggest thing they seemed to want of her was to organize things, find ways to repair that utilized what they had. According to the soldiers and supervisors who'd watched her work, she seemed to be good at finding unorthodox solutions to problems. "They fancy you as something of a MacGuyver" were Mearing's exact words.

The decision to accept was something Aspen grappled with for a few hours. Time was given to her, since the higher-ups clearly understood that working with the Transformers would possibly be a life-changing thing. But after thinking it over, the side of her that wanted to be driven and risky and more won out. If this was what she was needed for, and if she could really help them... shouldn't she? There was no excuse not to be ambitious when the ambition was literally being handed to her.

So her choice was made, and when asked what she would do, she told Mearing that she would help as best she could. The other woman led her to an elevator. When those doors opened, it felt as if Aspen stepping over them was a threshold leading her into an entirely new life. They closed, with both women in the elevator as it began to move.

"Get your ID out, Ms. Singletary. We'll get you cleared for access, and then you're going to meet the Autobots."

* * *

The one thing about Stacie Woods that could be counted on, no matter what, was that she didn't poke into other people's business. Unless someone approached her first with interest, her life was mostly kept to herself. Her circle of friends had always been small, consisting of one or two individuals who may or may not have also been quiet. The few situations that involved interacting with anyone outside her tiny group consisted of having a tutor in college and going steady with a couple people, as well as working in retail and at a car repair garage.

They'd all ended up with her barely coming out of her shell, most of them even contributing to her decision to manage a career at home. It was better that she was alone most of the time, anyway. There were things in her past that were best left there, and didn't need to be repeated. For some experiences, once was enough.

Still, she had found contentment, as she started to emerge just a little more. About an hour a week was spent at the library, researching and working. As an online consultant for an automotive repair company, her schedule was more flexible than some. A friend was made of the volunteer librarian around her own age; pleasant conversations were carried out among complete strangers. None of it was forced, and the anxiety that may have been in those interactions during her younger years had gradually faded. The drive from town back to her house made her nervous, but nothing bad had happened yet. Since she'd taken these small risks, everything that could have gone wrong... hadn't, so far.

Her lucky streak was long overdue to come screeching to an end. Thirty-one years without a life-threatening incident was a pretty good run, all things considered.

The darkness had seemed to stretch on for longer than she remembered as she drove home that night. Although it made her uneasy, it wasn't a particularly long drive - what could happen in this short time? Her mental question was answered when, shortly after she was over the bridge she'd been crossing, her car sputtered to a halt near the side of the road.

No time was wasted in getting out of the vehicle, and even though panic was setting in, she tried to calm herself. After all, who wouldn't be panicking when faced with these circumstances? The night was near pitch black, and everyone she could think to call would be asleep. This was how it served her to spend longer than normal at the library, apparently.

At least she was able to keep her head about her, as she did a quick check of the engine. It was futile; even if this was something she was able to repair herself, her box of simple tools was at home. The once-over revealed nothing, either due to her panic or the lack of light or both. Plan B was to call someone, and a number was dialed with shaking fingers. Her parents didn't answer their phone, which only set her more on edge.

Through her frazzled state, she tried to keep her logic even. _They go to bed at nine, they're asleep. Just call someone else._ Her aim was off for every digit of her friend's number as all the awful possibilities of what could go bad out here ran through her mind. There had been a massive, frightening attack on the city not a month ago, led by terrible alien creatures who had clearly not cared who they were stepping on. Suppose some of them were still left, and one was lurking around here who had no qualms about ambushing a defenseless human? That particular worry came out of nowhere among all the others tumbling through her mind. Despite there not being much traffic on this road, she still scurried into the grass on the other side of her car. Giving herself any opportunity to be in the way of a passing car was a risk she wasn't willing to take.

Her foot made one misstep, and then she fell.

How exactly she lost her footing would remain a mystery, but how she landed was clearer: on her side, in a puddle of mud which was thankfully softer than the surrounding dirt. There was a soreness in her ankle, and the muck had clumped together strands of blonde hair. By the time she was able to push herself up, tears were making tracks in the filth that had stained her face. And somehow, the universe was still not done with her; when she lifted her head up, she would meet with a nasty surprise.

Red eyes were the only thing that had flashed at her in the darkness, and a scream immediately ripped its way from her throat. It was one of _them_.

At first it seemed dead, although that made this no less petrifying. After a moment, once her screams had ceased and she'd begun to catch her breath, the creature spoke. The voice seemed to denote male, low and growling and irritated as he introduced himself. "The powerful and mighty Megatron." It stood to reason that he was an important figure in the battle that had torn their city apart, perhaps one of the most important. The way he talked was lofty and arrogant, despite the fact that it seemed he could not move.

A quick fumble with the flashlight on her phone revealed the reason why - on this section beneath the bridge, the water had promoted the growth of rust. Both his arms and legs, as well, seemed to be missing. There was no one to put him back together, nor could he manage it himself in this state.

So he demanded of her that she would be the one to repair him. She was to return in the morning, and she could find no voice to argue.


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! Nice to see you again! :)  
**

 **Before I get on with the chapter, there's something I feel like I need to discuss. Since I posted this, three anonymous reviews have been left. I would love to thank the one person who was very positive about my story. However, the other two read as follows.**

 **Sigh**  
 **Im not going to say this story sucks**  
 **Cuz it dosent, maybe it will be more romantic than the last one.**  
 **But your original one was pretty damn good**  
 **Rewritting takes FOREVER to update**  
 **TnT**  
 **Sigh but whatever woohoo keep up the good work.**

 **It's been a while since i saw this new rewrite thing you were doing, i decided to wait a couple months- ya know to give you time...**  
 **You have not updated, it's still the first chapter..._**  
 **sigh, please don't be a cliff hanger kind of writer.**  
 **I really like your style, please KEEP GOING.**  
 **I await your epic story.**

 **It seems to me like they may be from the same person, and if that person is still reading my story, I'd like to point out something that perhaps didn't occur to you while you were writing them.**

 **These reviews have a VERY 'backhanded compliment' feel to them. They compliment my writing, but then turn right around and complain about how long I'm going to take.**

 **One of the main reasons I took so long with this chapter? These reviews discouraged me very much. The first thing I posted was only the prologue, and already you don't have high hopes for me despite liking my style and the plot. I have a life outside of this site. I'm on several other sites, roleplaying, drawing, editing, writing other stories, and playing games. Not to mention, real life gets in the way. My moods and inspiration get in the way.**

 **As much as I would like to, it's not possible for me to write this story 24/7. There are some days I don't feel like writing _anything_ , and I'm not going to force myself, because forcing myself to write something I don't want to usually ends up giving me writer's block.**

 **I apologize if I sound harsh, but the way these reviews are worded makes me NOT want to write more of this story. That's unfortunate, because I love writing this story. I SPECIFICALLY warned you in the author's note of the prologue that my updates would not be frequent, and that hasn't changed. Transformers, despite how much I adore the series, is not always my main focus anymore. Other fandoms take hold of me quite often.**

 **If you want FAST writing, you're probably not in the right place. However, it's one of my closest-held beliefs that anything you have to wait for is worth the wait. You may have to wait months for my writing and for an update on this story. I apologize for that because I know what it's like to want more, and to want things to come faster. But even though I'm sorry about how slow I'm going to be, I really hope my writing makes the wait worth it.**

 **Please do not leave backhanded, negative reviews about how long I'm taking. That does not motivate me to keep going. That makes me turn away from the story and not come back to it for months. This rewrite is very special to me, because it's a rewrite of the FIRST EVER Transformers story I ever tried to write.**

 **Feel free to talk about the plot, the characters, the writing style - but do not rush me. I adhere to MY schedule, not yours. I'm doing this because I enjoy writing and I enjoy these characters, not because I'm a slave who does nothing but write.**

 **If this negativity about the frequency of my updates continues, I will disable anonymous reviews or enable the feature that allows me to filter them before displaying them.**

 **Alright, now that that's out of the way! Here's the official first chapter. I had some difficulties with my word processing program saving the beginning/middle part of the document, so that also discouraged me. XP But it's finally done!**

 **The format I've decided on for chapters is different than the original, as well! This time around, I'll alternate chapters from the point of view of Aspen and Stacie. So this chapter is Aspen, the next one will be Stacie, etc. etc. in that format. There's a short quote from a song in this chapter that I feel encapsulates what Optimus and Aspen's relationship will become; there will be another short song quote in the next chapter doing the same for Megatron and Stacie's relationship. After that, no more song quotes unless someone's actually singing in the story! This isn't a songfic.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _We were making history – breaking rules and breaking free_

 _Questioning the writing on the wall_

 _Coming from the underground, laughing as we're falling down_

 _Soaking in the glory of it all_

 _But in dark times when we close our eyes_

 _It's a nightmare… it's a nightmare_

 _When the sun don't shine, we lose our minds_

 _But I swear, we can get there_

 _We've got young blood – can't destroy us_

 _We make our own luck in this world_

 _We've got young blood – no one chose us_

 _We make our own love in this world._

–Bea Miller, "Young Blood"

* * *

The whole process of getting cleared for access to be inside N.E.S.T. headquarters took less time than Aspen initially thought it would take. She had been imagining hours upon hours of paperwork, background checks, and only God knew what else – something that took so long she might not even get to meet the Autobots today.

As it turned out, however, while it was more time-consuming than she would have liked, it only took a few hours. Mearing gave her a packet of paperwork to fill out, and when she was done with that, they ran a few background checks. As soon as those came up clean, Aspen was given a new identification card, attached to a button she could clip to her shirt. That was where she immediately put it, standing tall and as proud as she could as she was escorted through a set of double doors into the hangar where N.E.S.T.'s soldiers worked.

It was a massive place, with far too much square footage to even be considered a room. There was a huge amount of space, and upon having a look around, it was all too clear why they needed so much.

The Transformers, as they had been addressed to Aspen, were _giants_. That came as no surprise, really, considering the scale of the battle that had taken place weeks ago. They dwarfed her and all the other humans in every way possible, and there was at least one who was dangerously close to the lights on the ceiling. Even as Mearing was leading her, all she could do was gawk in wonder. Wide brown eyes drank in every inch of the mechanical beings as she was able, mouth agape as her mind absorbed the diversity of frames and colors between them all. She'd never seen anything like this before, aside from unrealistic movies on late-night television. But this was _real._ This was… amazing.

"This way," came Mearing's authoritative voice, although she refused to do any hand-holding. (Aspen could assume that if she got lost, that was her problem for not paying attention.) "Before you meet any of the others, I think it's best that you meet the big guy himself."

She could only manage a nod as she hurried away from the feet of a passing bot, not wanting to be crushed. It seemed like they were quite aware and careful of the humans beneath them, as a human might be to a small troupe of ants, but accidents happened. "Yes, ma'am! That would be… that would be Optimus? Am I remembering his name right?"

"That's an affirmative." After a few seconds of seeming to be waiting for something, the bureaucrat let out an annoyed huff and grabbed Aspen's hand. "If you want to be at eye level for your first introduction, Ms. Singletary, I would suggest taking a step up, and holding onto the rail."

"Oh… oh." Her foot made the quick transition, fingers curling around the rail. What was this thing? Some kind of lift? A moment later her question was answered when the section of 'floor' began to move upward, accompanied by a hydraulic hiss. Aspen let out a small squeak as she clutched the railing, trying not to look down. Well, that was something she hadn't quite been prepared for. Heights weren't necessarily a phobia for her, but they made her a little uneasy, especially when they were sudden. "Oh, wow, uh, sorry… I've never been on anything like this be..."

Her head tilted up, and out of nowhere she found herself gazing into a pair of electric blue optics, irises spinning and bathing her in a slight, pale glow. The eyes were surrounded by an abundance of metal faceplates, shaped into strong, soft features. He was at least four times her size, and yet, the fear that he might hurt her was fleeting. There was a look in his optics and an expression settled on his face that made one thing very clear: he was a gentle soul. A military leader, a tactician, a fighter – and yet, at his core, someone who wanted peace.

And for what felt like the longest moment of her life, she was absolutely starstruck.

Finally, when she found her voice, it was quiet… and she wasn't even sure what to really say. What did one say to a giant mechanical being who was part of something much bigger than she was, and whose eyes looked like they had the whole universe in them? "… Fore. Uhm… hi." Whatever you were _supposed_ to say, she was sure a simple hello stammered out after finishing her previous sentence wasn't it. She could only hope he wouldn't blame her for not being as eloquent as he'd probably expected.

The small chuckle he gave in reply easily made its way into the deepest parts of her. His voice was low and rumbling, commanding respect while allowing an odd sense of relaxation to wash over her. "Hello." One hand rose, a finger extended down toward her. Even just his hand was almost as big as her entire body. "You must be the brave soldier who's going to assist us with repairs."

"Uh… uh–" She blinked a few times, in a mostly futile attempt to clear her mind. This was crazy… _crazy_. Who would have ever thought this was where life would take her? How was she a part of this? She was so ordinary, and this was so… not. "Well, I'm – I'm actually not a soldier. Uh, nor am I… probably… brave, really. Just a, uh… humble fix-it gal heeding the call of duty… serving her country."

She very nearly missed the hint offered by his digit, but after a moment, she quickly realized her mistake and held out both hands to wrap around the metal. All the metal she'd ever worked with was cold unless or until she'd started working on it; that wasn't the case with his skin. It was warm and inviting, holding some comfortable familiarity with the smoothness of a handshake. "Aspen Singletary, at your service, sir."

Smaller plates whirred down over his optics in a mimicry of blinking. Every action was something she was completely focused on, and he seemed well aware of that, and she still didn't see everything. _Amused_ wasn't the right word for that look on his faceplates, and yet there was no other word in her vocabulary that she could find to describe it. This was an expression she just couldn't identify. It wasn't unpleasant, just… mysterious. "My name is Optimus Prime. No need for 'sir'." The words came out sounding almost clumsy, as if he'd never had to say them before. As if no humans had ever addressed him with _sir_. "It is nice to meet you, Aspen."

"Oh, uh… nice to meet you, too – I guess I can just call you Optimus, then?" It was hard to keep a smile off her face, despite that long-held promise to herself to _not_ act goofy. This was just unbelievable, and giddiness was bubbling around inside her chest and stomach. If she didn't let at least a little out in that awful, garish grin, she was just going to explode.

A nod was her first reply, and a moment later, he was carefully pulling his hand away. Another gentle hint that she took almost instantly, letting her own hands slide from the metal. This was… good. Good. He seemed less interested in shaming her for small mistakes, and more focused on making introductions so the real work could begin. That was something different – different even from the human bureaucrats. As much as they wanted her services, they didn't correct her little missteps in ways other than bluntly telling her what she'd done wrong.

They were only five minutes into meeting each other, and already Optimus was treating her as if she were strong but breakable. His corrections were silent, subtle, and done with an air of humility rather than authority.

Aspen was still staring at him, her eyes roving over every inch to try and drink it all in, when a harsh " _Ahem_ " yanked her out of her reverie. Her eyes tore away from the Transformer, snapping over toward Mearing. Blood rushed to her face, darkening her cheeks to a dusty pink. "Oh, uh…" She racked her brain for a few seconds, and then her eyes caught sight of the admittedly huge problem that was staring her in the face. "… Crap, you're missing an arm," was what she finally settled on, the words tumbling lamely from her lips.

Now, _that_ look on his face, she had a name for. 'Bittersweet' was what she would call it, and the hybrid of a sigh and chuckle that followed as soon as she said it was of the same sentiment. "Indeed. My apologies if it seems like we're rushing you; this is the largest repair that needs completed, and Ratchet is in serious need of help."

"No, no, it's… you're not. This is my job, after all! I should be… you know… doing it. Faster. Better." She blew out a breath, moving her hand up to scratch at the back of her head as her eyes stayed locked on his missing arm. Quite honestly, it looked pretty terrible. Frayed wires, severed connections, and although none of it was sparking or anything… she couldn't imagine that it felt much better than it looked. She'd never seen any electrical projects _this_ wrecked, but even from the experience with the stuff she _had_ seen, this made her wince. "… Doesn't that… hurt? Like… it… it looks like it would hurt really bad."

"The pain… has grown increasingly bearable." It was pretty obvious he didn't really believe that. That kind of pain had to be excruciating. If it _really_ didn't bother him, then he must have somehow tricked himself into not feeling _anything_. Although, given his disposition, that was more likely than one might have otherwise thought. "It would be beneficial to… repair this as soon as possible, however."

She nodded a few times, still a little bit in a daze. How on Earth did he sound so nonchalant about missing an arm, _and_ not having had it fixed yet? "Well… well, duh. It's not good to… not have an arm. Uh… quick question, though. Do you guys have… like… any kind of painkillers? Did, uh – Ratchet, right? He's the doctor? Did he give you anything for the pain, or… try to get the actual… wound under control? I mean, I'm not seeing any blood, so–"

"Energon." There was another correction, sounding just as patient as the previous ones. "The main life-sustaining substance for Cybertronians is energon. It is… comparable to blood, but different, seeing as we are not organic and have different needs. As for painkillers… they must be made, and at the moment, Ratchet has no ingredients to make them."

"… Yikes." That was all that would come out for a moment. What was she supposed to say to that? He'd lost an arm, and even though the 'bleeding' had been stemmed, there wasn't _anything_ available to dull the pain. The sentiment she wanted to offer was "Holy shit", but that would probably be a little inappropriate, considering that she was supposed to be a professional. It wasn't like you'd walk into a doctor's office with a missing limb and all they would say was _Holy shit_.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, putting both hands on her hips. Well, the first thing she absolutely had to do was assess the situation, and that was done. "Alright, then. Missing arm, fried wires, lack of painkillers." No part of that screamed 'hopeful' to her. Then again, it just meant her work was cut out for her. "… Gotcha. We'll figure out some way to get organized, and fix this up."

It seemed like the smile she gave him, no matter how nervous, at the very least didn't make things worse. He looked… grateful, if she was reading that look right. "Thank you. I have no reason to doubt your competence. Welcome to N.E.S.T., by the way; your presence and input will be highly valued."

"Oh… uh… well – well, thanks." For some reason, the way he said that struck something that sent her stomach into flips. It was so _sincere_. Not for the first time, she was floored by the sheer surreality of all this. Here she was, talking to a robotic alien about patching up a huge injury of his, and she was so small and fragile compared to him, and he was _happy_ to have her doing the job. There wasn't any wondering, evidently, of whether or not she'd be able to do it well. That was a _WOW_ sort of feeling.

She felt her face heat up again, and she ducked her head down as fast as she could in an attempt to hide it. Maybe he didn't even know what blushing was or what it meant, but it was still unprofessional of her to get so visibly flustered about the situation. Besides, Mearing was still here. Any falter in Aspen's ability to keep herself together would shunt her back to her old job. While she didn't really have a problem with her old job… she actually had a desire to follow this path, previous hesitance notwithstanding. It was an exciting opportunity, and if she could do it, she'd prove to herself that she _was_ capable of being a completely serious employee.

Not to mention, who would pass up getting to know these beings?

Almost as if to keep herself from becoming too overwhelmed with excitement, her hands shoved themselves into her pockets. The smile on her face – or maybe it was a grin – refused to go away. "Should I meet Ratchet now? It's, uh, probably best to group up with him and see if we can figure out a game plan together. You know what they say, heh… two heads are better than one."

Just seconds after she suggested that next step, the lift she and Mearing were on began to move back down. Aspen's hands gripped the railing again, her body locking up slightly despite knowing that where she was standing was capable of moving.

"Seems to me that you can handle the remainder of the introductions yourself," Mearing commented, stepping off the platform as soon as it had been lowered completely. "You don't need babysitting, and seeing as I have actual work to do, I'll be taking my leave. If you need any help, there are multiple other N.E.S.T. members in the hangar right now." Her heels clicked on the concrete as she took a few more steps away, then she turned back and arched an eyebrow. It didn't appear to be a sign of genuine suspicion, but a higher-up being wary of newcomers wasn't anything Aspen was unaccustomed to. "I trust you'll begin repairs as soon as possible, Ms. Singletary."

The mechanic's instinct was to salute, and she couldn't hold it back. Her smile cracked just a little farther out as she clicked her heels and brought a swift hand up to her forehead. While not technically part of the military, she'd spent more time around army personnel than most civilians did; it was inevitable that some things might rub off on her. The code of honor and respect, especially to those above her, was one of the things that stuck most.

"Yes, ma'am. We'll get everyone running like new before you know it."


End file.
